


as if I have eaten fire

by paperiuni



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 12:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperiuni/pseuds/paperiuni
Summary: In which Magnus wrecks Alec, tenderly, and is a bit wrecked by Alec in return.(Set somewhere around 2.08.)





	as if I have eaten fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaywoodandbine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaywoodandbine/gifts).



> The timeline is irrelevant, I was just jonesing for some early-relationship smut with a slice of feelings. This is the most flagrantly pornographic thing I've written in a while.
> 
> A thousand thanks to Mindy for writing with me. You're the real MVP. And you get the dedication for being my favourite spiteful wench and enabling us all.
> 
> tumblr @[poemsfromthealley](https://poemsfromthealley.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter @[juneofthepen](https://twitter.com/juneofthepen)  
> If you want to tweet at me, my fic hashtag is #junefic ♥

 

Fingers dip into the hollow of Alec's spine with idle curiosity, followed by the mark of a kiss between his shoulder blades. He gasps through the last of his dream. His back curves into the touch before his waking mind catches up.

Sunlight washes across the bed and the airy linens, more comfortable than anything he's ever slept in. There has to be magic woven into the sheets, because they're crisp and cool even when the day looks musty with heat behind the window.

Reaching back over his right shoulder, he catches a handful of Magnus's hair, soft and towel-dry. That's novel. Alec would stop for it, but then Magnus leans into his hand and claims a slanted good morning kiss.

"Hey," Alec says. Magnus presses into his back and side in a pleasant shock of warm skin on his own.

"There you are." Magnus steals another kiss. "Sleep well?"

"Mmh, like a log. What about you? What time is it?" It's definitely more day than morning outside. They got into bed early, but there were a few detours between _bed_ and _sleep_. Alec might have to apply a healing rune before he shows his face—or any other uncovered skin—at the Institute.

Magnus looks way too bright-eyed for somebody that took Alec through a fraction of what he remembers from last night. Even if warlocks do need less sleep than mere mortals.

Magnus's hand has not stopped roaming down his back. He sets his cheek on Alec's bicep, but his eyes have a roguish gleam. "Oh, I slept wonderfully. Like you would after a proper ravishing."

"That's what we're calling it now?" Alec wills down the flush that is, if old experience is anything to go by, splotching his neck as they speak.

Mornings with Magnus are also an experience. When Alec doesn't have to rush to the Institute, they tend to involve being whisked to another city or continent for breakfast, or long baths and rooftop picnics, or a wander through Brooklyn for brunch in a semi-mystical eatery Alec never would've found on his own. That is, once they make it out of the bed.

Judging by the way Magnus has draped himself over Alec, showered but still naked, Magnus isn't in a hurry.

"Would you prefer another word? A romp, perhaps? _Tryst_ seems euphemistic for, well." Magnus grazes the skin under Alec's jaw with his teeth. "The whole part where you held me to the mattress and fucked me until your stamina rune ran out. That part in particular. I can still feel you, just here, like this—"

Alec lets up a hissing breath, at Magnus's words and at his fingers teasing his buttocks, parting them. Just enough for the idea to leap up: Magnus buried inside him, filling him in hot, deep strokes; Magnus pinning him down, taking him at his leisure.

Magnus has fucked him before, with patience and care, achingly aware of how new Alec is to all this. Alec grabs every lesson with both hands, and Magnus is a generous, appreciative guide. The memory of him, panting, pulsing around Alec's cock, flashes like a fireburst behind Alec's closed eyelids.

He asked for the rune. Alec gave it to him.

Now, Alec feels himself grow hard against the sheet as Magnus slips his thumb into the cleft of his ass. A slow swipe. A hint of sweet, held pressure where his body gives way. Alec pushes his hips up in thoughtless assent.

Making Magnus feel good is easy and joyful; it drives him to master it like any skill. Magnus touches him now and it stirs a different desire, a languid, tangled longing.

"You're plotting." Alec takes Magnus's right hand, bare of rings, and kisses his palm.

"You went into bed with a dastardly warlock." Magnus's eyes shine amber, but his merriment mellows them. "You'd be disappointed if I had no schemes in me at all."

Magnus is usually playing at least two angles. Often more than that. This time, he might just want a follow-up not-tryst before the day catches up to them. His fingers slide down the inside of Alec's thigh, toward his knee, then up again. Prickling sensation rolls under Alec's skin, flowing into the lust simmering in his stomach. It's all lazy and whimsical, like Magnus is just mapping him, relishing the discovery of the ticklish spot behind his knee, dwelling on the rises and dips of his ribcage.

"I'd never really thought about it," Alec hears himself say. "Runes for sex. I mean, the heavens didn't open and Raziel didn't smite me dead, so—"

Magnus lets out a ringing laugh. "Are you sure _that_ isn't blasphemy? Here I thought last night left _me_ a little addled."

"Is that a compliment?" Maybe Alec is a bit out of his head. Something is making him breezy and brave. "Not that I couldn't tell you enjoyed it."

"One enjoys a pastry. A pleasant view. Perhaps a good book." Magnus snakes his right hand under Alec's body, finds the soft peak of his nipple, pinches it so the feeling ripples straight into Alec's cock. "Bedding you requires a stronger word."

"I guess I should—oh—bring a thesaurus to bed next time. Vocabulary seems to do it for you." Alec may be speaking whole sentences, but he feels like he's about to brim over, the little rivulets of Magnus's teasing pooling together in him.

"I like to be precise about my meaning."

"Or to say precisely the thing you don't mean."

"I work to extol your charms and all you do is quibble. So tell me, what would please you this morning? We have plenty of time."

"You please me." Alec echoes Magnus's wording on reflex. Magnus is again stroking a fingertip against his ass. He imagines those fingers pressing into him, steady and slippery, a prelude to... "The way I fucked you last night. I wanna know how it feels. When you stop going easy on me."

Magnus sighs a long, pensive breath against Alec's back, and Alec's own breaths quicken in response. Now that he's said it, it goes from a dazzling mirage he'd only let himself imagine to a dawning reality.

"Pillow," Magnus says, startling him. Alec grabs one, then keeps hold of it as Magnus reaches to take it.

"Kiss," he says, in the same half-playful tone. _Trade you._

Cupping Alec's head in his palm, Magnus kisses him. The tender vise of his fingers is enough to make Alec still, to make him kiss back with pliant reaction rather than any demand. Anticipation slides liquid through him. Magnus pulls back, and Alec lets him go.

Magnus puts the pillow under his hips, then, as Alec turns after him, unthinking, presses him back down.

"I'm curious," Magnus says, too low to be casual, "if you'd mind some magic in bed. Beyond the usual."

"I used my runes in bed." Alec shifts under Magnus's hand. "You mean, can you use magic on me. I guess it depends on what for. I'm not sure I want to suddenly be airborne or anything."

The thought tugs him two ways. He _trusts_ Magnus, and the limits of that trust already reach wide, far beyond what caution should allow. The breadth of the question is pretty staggering, too. What, exactly, is Magnus asking him?

Magnus laughs. "All right. Specifics. May I hold you down?"

"Oh." The shock of lust lancing through his stomach makes Alec tense for a long second. He'll study it later. There's Magnus's warm voice speaking possibilities, and Magnus's warm hand stroking his side. "Uh, yeah."

"What about heightening sensation? Just a little." Magnus traces a back rib, then his spine, with a fingertip. "The idea _is_ to make you last, after all."

Alec swallows. "Fine. Yeah, yeah, that's all good."

"Splendid." Magnus's palms move up the backs of his thighs—god, over this whole conversation, Magnus has barely stopped touching him—up and up, until Magnus's thumbs skim between his ass cheeks and Alec feels his muscles clamp, then relax against the touch. "Comfortable?"

That's the word Magnus chooses, when Alec's about to burst from desire, when Magnus's fingers are _right there_ , so close to where Alec wants them.

"I could do this all day," he says, and Magnus's delighted laugh is worth it.

"I'm sure you could, brave heart."

Magic flickers over his skin from Magnus's palms, cool and familiar, sending tremors through Alec just because he's so ready, unsteady with the waiting. He holds back the _please_ that wants to slip out.

Supple, wet heat presses against his rim, Magnus's fingers holding him open, and a choked noise tears from him. That's Magnus's mouth, his deft, wicked tongue, circling over his hole.

Alec presses his face into his own palm as feeling overwhelms him, bright behind his eyes, incandescent as it travels down his body, trembles in his groin. His breaths come shallow, laced with moans that don't sound like his own voice.

"Fuck, fuck," he mumbles, stupid, stunned, "oh, Magnus—I'm—"

"You're doing beautifully," Magnus says, hoarse himself. "A little more?"

"Please." The word bursts from him without his conscious leave.

Alec isn't certain if Magnus did slip a spell over him, or if this is what it always feels like. The firm sweeps of Magnus's tongue twist sensation up too deep inside him. His cock throbs, trapped under his body. Magnus coaxes his hips up and Alec obeys, skewing onto his knees, his chest to the bed and his fingers wound into the sheets.

Then Magnus licks deeper into him, works his way past the clutch of his body, in sure strokes, with a leashed abandon that echoes in the grip of his fingers. Alec muffles a shout, leaving the stamp of his teeth on the pillowcase. Everything runs to that one brilliant point inside him. Want seeps through him, thick as a dream.

He's had Magnus's fingers in him, and his cock; he's felt Magnus spill himself in him. None of it compares to Magnus's tongue, the rasp of Magnus's breaths, the gutting, messy pleasure. Alec strains to keep himself together, splayed facedown on the bed as he is.

Magnus moves back to methodical licks over his rim. His cock sways against nothing, and a shiver seizes him at Magnus sliding his palm along its aching length. Magnus's fingers close, too loose and light for any real friction.

"Don't go easy," Alec gets out. "You said."

Magnus kisses the divot at the base of his spine, his mouth hot on the sensitized skin. "I am going to make you scream, but all in good time."

He moves down between Alec's buttocks again, the strokes slow, blissful, as Alec squirms under his tongue. Alec fumbles backward with a hand, finds Magnus's head, the solid line of his shoulder. Tries to tuck him closer, deeper, more _something_ —

Magnus takes his hand, instead, and presses a kiss on the second knuckle. "Hands to yourself, pretty boy."

Alec's heart kicks hard against his ribs. The pillow won't comment on his expression, so he buries his face in it, trying to bury the sudden reckless gallop of his heart, too.

Their fingers are still knit together as Magnus circles the tip of his tongue over his rim. Alec squeezes down on Magnus's hand, gasping, quick and arrhythmic.

A single curving lick. Magnus's voice, dark and beckoning. "Tell me you want me inside you." A sucking kiss, a soft, teasing probe. "Spare no detail."

"Want you," Alec whispers, too worked up to muster even a token resistance. There's very little resisting Magnus in general.

"Mm-hm?" Magnus raises himself so his cock—his sturdy, beautiful cock, silky on Alec's skin—nestles against Alec's ass.

"I—fuck, I want your dick, want to—" Alec's back arches, pushing his shoulders down, his fingers rigid with effort to hold on to himself. The heat between them taunts and promises, speaking of things he's long since consigned to the darkness of his dreams, that are now twining their way up to the light of the morning.

He lets himself drop to the bed so he can roll over and clumsily draw Magnus in between his knees. Magnus smiles like it's a move of some boldness. His hair is a half-damp crow's nest, his skin flushed with desire, his mouth slick and reddened. Alec's barely ever seen him so carelessly disheveled.

Alec runs a splayed palm up Magnus's stomach, skirting around his shaft, feeling his breaths flow under his ribs. "I wanna look at you while you're in me. See in your face what it feels like to fuck me."

A ragged chortle escapes Magnus. Alec thinks his color heightens, even though that's dumb; it's Magnus, and nothing flusters him unless he allows it. That's how it feels to Alec, anyway.

Then Magnus sharpens, his eyes going narrow and golden. Fine, humming coils of magic loop around Alec's wrists and pull them up, gentle but irresistible.

"Oh," Alec says. "Right." The small word claims a good portion of his breath. His cock tightens, dripping warm precome onto his stomach.

Magnus isn't even in him yet, and he's losing it. He drags in a hitching breath of air.

Magnus leans in, claims Alec's mouth in a filthy, delirious kiss, and angles Alec's hips up, his knees wide, Magnus's broad shoulder slotting under his right one. The head of his cock draws a slow wet stroke over Alec's hole.

The position gives him no leverage, but Alec rolls his hips. "Magnus."

"Tell me, Alexander." Magnus's voice wraps around his name in a rough caress.

"You know what I want." A moan tears through Alec's retort as Magnus rocks against him, watching him with slitted eyes. His fingertips rub along the inside of Alec's thigh, down to his swollen rim. With a soft waft of magic, Magnus slicks his fingers and pushes two of them inside, a single smooth movement. Already tender from his tongue, Alec arches up with a whimper.

"I can do this all day," Magnus murmurs, in that same damned tone, turning Alec's brash claim back on him. "Bring you to the edge and never let you fall. Over and over, until you beg me to let you come."

It's never been about pride with Magnus. Alec has no standards of arrogance or posturing to meet; he gives himself over to Magnus gladly and freely. So he says, low with how the words whet his desire, "What if that is what I want? You fucking me until I can't take it anymore? You filling me up so I can't—can't think of anything else, you holding me there—"

"Fires of Edom, you're a _menace_ ," Magnus groans, strangled. His hands dig into Alec's hips. "Oh, Alexander."

He sinks into Alec in a hard slide that seats him deep, and Alec tosses his head, his toes flexing helplessly at the pleasure shearing through him. He's pinned between the magic binding his wrists and Magnus bent over him, hips working in quick circles. A dark, throbbing sensation builds at the root of his cock, at the base of his spine.

"Look at me," Magnus says.

Twisting against the unseen threads of Magnus's will, Alec meets his gaze.

Magnus's attention slams into him like a storm wave. His eyes are glassy, pupils wide and black, his glamour long since gone. The feeling swelling in Alec crests and does not break, as Magnus fucks him with undulating, unforgiving thrusts. Alec's fingers scramble at the headboard without finding purchase. Watching Magnus swallow and shiver, even as he moves with sleek ease, is hypnotic.

 _I'm looking_ , Alec thinks, dazed. _You're the only thing I ever wanna see._

He forces his eyes to stay open against the instinct to close them and immerse himself in the roar of his own need. Magnus nudges his arms under Alec's back, makes him curve so the thrusts find his prostate, an erratic hammer-beat of sensation.

There's nothing for Alec to push against, nothing to struggle for. Only Magnus's cock filling him. His body tightens sweetly at each slide, pulling Magnus in.

Magnus gives him a handful of deep strokes until Alec nearly sobs with need, then draws back to tease him. He dips his cock in shallowly, or merely smears the tip across Alec's taint, or, two or three times, up along Alec's own straining shaft. The promise of an incoming orgasm shudders low in his groin.

"Magnus," he gasps, "god, you feel so good, just—"

"Yes?" Magnus's voice is a little strange.

 _In me_ , Alec wants to say, _please let me come, oh, let me stay in this feeling, don't make it end yet._ He's not making any sense. Everything that matters in the world has shrunk to the bed and the messy sheets and Magnus with his burning eyes and his maddening touch. His words shrivel and parch as they pass his lips. His heart is a drum in his chest, his mind lurching loose from its moorings.

"Darling." Magnus's hand settles on his neck, over the rune. "You decide."

Grasping that he _is_ talking, at a rambling, dreamy mumble, Alec snaps his mouth shut. Closes his eyes for good measure. The hold of Magnus's hand is solid and still. Magnus kisses the side of Alec's mouth, gentle and fairly chaste, then nuzzles his neck, his shoulder, rests his temple against his heaving chest.

Alec's body still responds with trembling urgency. His toes drag across the sheet, and he wraps his leg around Magnus's back, the bone of his heel hard against the groove of Magnus's spine.

"'M not quitting. You didn't even get to the magic part yet," he says, drawing from a well of wry humor he didn't know he had. It is a bit funny, probably.

At least Magnus laughs, and again caprice vies with a softer sentiment in his voice. "I did, a little. Though I did have grander plans."

Alec rolls a shoulder; the spell has enough give that he can shift in place, but the bonds keep his hands securely above his head. Keep his body open and bare to Magnus. The thought makes him clench, and he's suddenly, poundingly aware of the hot weight of Magnus's cock on his stomach.

"Again," he whispers. "In me. Just stay, let me feel you."

"You are—" Magnus draws his hand up to Alec's cheek, and then exhales the rest of the words as a wondering sigh.

"A menace?" Alec slants an eye open.

"Astonishing," Magnus says, and the brief crackle of banter seams over into tarry desire as Magnus slides inside him again. Alec moans at the slick heat and stretch, but it's Magnus's tone that sets his heart thundering. Like Alec is a revelation, the last, decisive piece of some puzzle Magnus has longed to solve.

Again, then, Magnus fucks him, small, sinuous movements that never part them. Magnus's mouth drags across his shoulder, teeth nicking the ridge of his clavicle. Wet, wandering kisses up the side of his throat send a spill of feeling lapping at his nerves.

Alec's too tall for Magnus to kiss while Magnus is fucking him like this, unless they get very creative with pillows—or, Alec thinks with vague amusement, flexibility runes—but Magnus makes do with all the rest of him.

The edge of his teeth on Alec's nipple, until the pleasure is a spiking red glow, then the languid sweeps of his tongue on the same spot.

His thumb at Alec's rim, pressing inside in time with his thrusts, just so deep that Alec moans and babbles, too full and wrung out for any kind of shame.

He makes himself open his eyes and watch Magnus, bowed over him, eyes scrunched shut, the ends of his hair sharp with sweat. Alec aches to touch him. To draw him in for a kiss as cracks start showing through his focus. The spell snags him back by the wrists, and he subsides with a gasp.

Watching Magnus will do. It's enough for his need to swell again, climbing up his arched spine.

Muttering under his shallow breaths, Magnus shifts his hands to Alec's sides. The crescents of his nails burrow into Alec's hips as he slows his strokes. His weight presses his cock in at just the right angle, and sparks trail across Alec's vision.

" _Magnus_ ," he grits out. Magnus's graceful control stutters, but his sounds, airy and worshipful, shake the last of Alec's own restraint. Shoving Alec's leg wide, he buries himself helplessly deep.

"Oh fuck," Alec manages, "fuck, that's, love that, love—" And he bites through the next word and into his cheek. "Magnus, babe, please—"

Magnus makes a noise like he's been hurt, and comes, and Alec is too caught up in the wonder of his unraveling to follow. Right now, Magnus's face as he spends himself, the final rough slides that undo him, hold Alec entranced. Magnus sways forward into him; unthinking, Alec catches him. Residual magic wisps around his wrists, the spell broken by the breach in Magnus's focus.

Humming in his throat, Alec brushes Magnus's tangled hair back from his brow. Oh, he's going to be sore from this, bruised from Magnus's fingers and marked by his teeth. His body is still shot through with prickling need.

He's not sure this is what was supposed to happen: Magnus, shuddering with aftershocks against Alec's chest, slipping awkwardly out of him, hands planted to the bed for teetering leverage. He's feverishly warm, sweat-soaked and wonderful. Alec never wants to let him go.

"Hey," he says, tentative.

"That," Magnus rasps, "was not my proudest moment."

Alec snorts a laugh, muffling it into Magnus's hair. "I don't know. Seemed to work for you."

He has no name for this feeling, the elusive lightness and anchoring weight of it. It's like Magnus, Alec guesses. He fits its shape. He fits, surprisingly well, in Alec's arms.

A small pang of loss goes through Alec as Magnus levers himself up. His eyes are still golden, like it's not a big deal for Alec to look at him without glamours, without his usual feints and shields.

"Quite so." Magnus smiles, a glittering curl of amusement, but there's warmth beneath. "I wanted to... well, broaden your horizons. You keep returning the favor."

Alec feels himself redden for no good reason. "Right. You promised me magic?"

"I did." Fingers set wide, Magnus strokes Alec's stomach. His thumb just glances along Alec's cock, and his muscles jump, his heart tripping wildly. "Today has been rather involved already. What would you say to my mouth, instead? Just a good old-fashioned cocksucking."

"Oh, god," Alec murmurs, and then the laughter bubbles up and he can only shake under it for a moment. "You're kinda terrible, you know that?"

"A right bastard, of course." Magnus slouches a shoulder philosophically. "A right bastard who would really like to kiss your pretty cock." Of course, at that, he has to flick his tongue against the tender underside. Even suck on the seam of shaft and head, so Alec's remark peters into a pleasured whine.

"Fine." Alec was never going to fight this. His principle is that all sex with Magnus has been great, and most of it amazing. There's going to be another morning for Magnus to no doubt drive him out of his mind with sex magic. Plus, his body leaps and trembles at each incidental touch. He isn't going to hold out for long. "Make it good, then."

With a guffaw, Magnus takes him in, the last of his laugh vibrating around his cock. Alec submerges into the feeling like a diver into sunlit water, and it surges over him, soaking him through. Magnus looks up at him through sweat-clumped lashes, and oh, it is good.

Alec tries to hold the eye contact. Doing his best to stay still, to let Magnus suck him instead of bucking ruthlessly into his mouth, he fists his hands. Kicks at the bed and narrowly misses Magnus's shoulder. His tattered breaths rise into a shout as Magnus teases his fingers inside him again. They make a circling and crooking counterpoint to the wet tugs of his lips.

After that, Alec lasts for maybe two minutes, but it's a glorious, heart-thumping two minutes. When Magnus finally twists his fingers and adds a shivering spark to the push, Alec comes at once, his veins alight with white-crackling magic and Magnus's name breaking in his teeth.

Heedless and merry, Magnus slides up to kiss Alec's gasps from his mouth. He tastes of salt on Alec's parched tongue.

The sunlight has moved across the bed and to the floor in dim, shimmering squares. Alec's back sticks to the sheets as Magnus sprawls on top of him, luxuriating either in the moment or in some private musing. He lets Alec stroke his hair back with impunity.

"You cheated." Alec tilts his head back lazily. "With the magic."

"Only a little, sweet thing." Magnus chuckles. "Only a little."

It's not like Alec minds.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Alicia Ostriker.
> 
> Comments are very welcome!


End file.
